The Challenge
by darkdestiney2000
Summary: The concept behind The Challenge was simple enough. Walk from Point A to Point B within a given amount of time and in return you get to leave the hospital wing. But while the idea behind The Challenge was simple enough, actually completing it was a totally different story. Prequel to She Isn't Gwen. Three Shot
1. Part I

A/N: Hello everyone! This is a prequel to one of my other fics ( _She Isn't Gwen)_ and a companion to _Christmas Lights._ This is the first of three chapters.I hope you enjoy! As always, I own nothing.

The concept behind The Challenge was simple enough. Walk from Point A to Point B within a given amount of time and in return you get to leave the hospital wing. Fall, pass out, tear your stitches, or accept help from someone else and you get a one-way ticket back to bed. The rules were very straight forward and no one had yet to go back on them. You could moan and groan all you wanted but everyone stuck with whatever the outcome was. But while the idea behind The Challenge was simple enough, actually completing it was a totally different story.

Pain. That was really the only way Peter Parker could explain it. In the simplest terms, he was in pain. If you wanted to get complicated, he could tell you that his right side was throbbing in tune with his heartbeat. His stomach churned and throat burned with the need to throw up. Okay he didn't need to throw up, but for some reason his body was telling him the action would make him feel better. But at this point in time, that is not something he is willing to do.

"You're an idiot." Wait, did he just say that out loud? No, that was a woman's voice. His head snapped up and he looked Natasha straight in the eye. Her body language screamed her opinion of this situation. Arms crossed over her chest, she took his body language in as well. Her eyebrow was quirked up; she did not like what she saw. He didn't have to imagine what he looked like. He _knew_ he looked like death warmed over. If Peter hadn't been in so much pain, he might have taken a moment to appreciate how attractive Natasha is. He wasn't stupid enough to think that he ever stood a chance with a woman like her (nor did he want the chance- he had Gwen), but he could appreciate her inward and outward beauty. At this moment in time, she was leaning against the wall about 10 feet from him. Her green eyes were hard with annoyance but behind them there was something else. Concern. Sometime in the past six months, they had grown close enough that the infamous Black Widow cared a little bit about him. They all did really; and he about them. Peter could see it written across their faces in one way or another.

"He's not an idiot! He's a champ!" That cheer came from Clint Barton. Natasha sent him a look that quickly shut him up. But when she turned back around to face Peter, Clint threw him a thumbs up behind her back and mouthed 'You got this'. Peter tried not to laugh. Laughing hurt too. But even though Clint was cheering him on, it didn't go unnoticed that his body was wound up as tight as the bow he used on a regular basis. He was ready to fly into action should Peter start to stumble.

"You know, there is a nice comfy bed right behind you. You could be in bed right now." Bruce Banner tried to be the rational one of the group. He was to Peter's right, wiping his glasses on his shirt. Bruce looked tired and this made Peter feel guilty. He had been up all night long dealing with Peter's injury. Now that he thought about it, this was a pretty crapping way to repay the man. But what else was Peter to do? He had a promise to keep and was dangerously close to breaking his word. Again. All that was standing between him and keeping that promise was fifteen feet and a door. And while the others weren't going to get in his way of leaving, they sure as hell weren't going to help him. Peter took another step and this time a jolt shot up his side and he bent over in pain.

"My aunt's couch is more comfortable." He gasped with his teeth clamped together. When he righted himself, he noticed that Bruce had taken a few steps closer and was looking at him closely. "It's okay. I'm good" He smirked at the doctor, who only rolled his eyes and set his mouth in a grim line. "Just for the record, I appreciate last night."

"Yeah, you said that already." Bruce said. "But I'd rather not stitch you up for the third time in the past ten hours." The past twelve hours hadn't been the most fun. It all started with a slip-up. Peter had messed up while doing the Spider-Man thing. What had started out as a routine patrol quickly deteriorated into the mess that he was in at the moment. How many times had he taken a knife away from a common criminal? The answer to that is: so many times that he lost count. It was simple really. Swing in, catch the delinquent off guard, remove the weapon (via webbing or a swift kick, it really didn't matter), throw out a snarky comment and then leave said criminal dangling for the police to find. It wasn't rocket science. He wasn't dealing with volatile chemicals in Tony's lab at Avenger Tower. He wasn't facing Dr. Connors. Just get the knife away from the criminal. Well, sometimes that is just easier said than done because before Peter knew it he was on the ground with blood leaking from his right side. The criminal ran off of course but the girl he had been trying to help was kind enough to throw her sweater over the stab wound and apply pressure. He had been lucky in that sense. Also in the sense that Gwen's apartment was only three blocks away. After apologizing to the girl for ruining her sweater and 'no he didn't need her to take him to the hospital', he limped off to his girlfriend's.

Limped being the key word in that sentence. He had tried to swing there, but quickly found that aerial escapades and stab wounds do not mix well. That bright idea was rewarded with a cut above his left eyebrow after he crashed into a brick wall. From there, Peter's memory gets a little fuzzy. He remembers making it to Gwen's apartment and climbing through the window. She had gotten pretty good at stitching him up. But there are some wounds that Gwen Stacy can't fix. Next thing he knows, she has his phone open and is talking to someone. He can hear the fear in her voice. "I… I'm sorry… I just didn't know who else to call." She took a deep breath and continued, "He's at my apartment with me but I can't handle this. There is too much blood and he can't stay awake. I'm putting pressure on it but it's not stopping." All of this is said in a whisper so that her mom doesn't hear what's going on. "What do I do?" Tears are rolling down her cheeks but now her voice is in control. Whoever is on the line has given her a task and Gwen is nothing if not diligent. Her blue eyes lock onto his brown ones and she begins to talk again, "Wait! He's awake!" She shoves the phone into his hand and moves it to his ear all in one fluid motion. It is then that he notices that state of himself.

Gwen has multiple towels pressed to his side and some are soaked in red. It takes a second for him to register that the red substance is his own blood. It takes even longer for the voice on the other end of the line to snap him back to reality. It's Bruce on the phone. Gwen was knowledgeable enough to know that of the Avengers, Bruce was the one to call when faced with a medical emergency.

"Hey Big Guy, you can stop yelling in my ear now. Special Spidey hearing, remember?" He whispered into the phone with as much energy as he could muster up.

"Peter, what happened? Gwen couldn't tell us much other than there is a lot of blood and you keep passing out. Talk to me." Peter can hear movement in the background. They are coming to get him. Of course, they are. Peter couldn't very well go to the emergency room. Only a handful of people knew he was Spider-Man.

"I screwed up, Bruce. It's a knife wound. Ahh!" Gwen had chosen that moment to apply more pressure. She silenced his moan with a look. There were a lot of emotions in those eyes: anger, fear, panic, love, grief. And Peter understood each and every one of them.

"Where is it at? Gwen said the right side but is it high enough to involve your lungs?" Another question in the background and Peter heard him say, "I don't know, Tony." A car door slammed. They were on the move. "Is it serious enough that we need to send Iron Man?"

"No. Don't do that. Just park in the alley behind the building." His mind became clear at the thought of Tony flying over to the apartment. Gwen didn't need that kind of attention. "It's really not that serious."

"The sound of your voice and a frantic phone call from Gwen at 1:30 in the morning tell me a different story, Peter." His voice was quiet, but Bruce never needed The Other Guy to get his point across. His tone spoke volumes and knocked Peter down a peg or five.

"I screwed up." He repeated and swallowed the lump in his throat, "I don't know what happened. I worked out with Nat either but I didn't think I was that tired. I got the one knife but he must have had another on him. I dropped the ball."

"That's not important right now. I'm sure you'll get an earful from Cap later. Tell me about the wound. Any idea on how deep it is?" It's on speaker phone now. I can hear the car moving.

"No clue. My Spidey senses were tingling but I didn't see the knife. He took off with it. I got cocky. I thought he was down and turn my back on him…"

"Well in that case, it's Clint you'll be getting an earful from and maybe me, Bug Boy." Tony Stark, ladies and gentlemen. "If you have no more useful information, give the phone back to Gorgeous Gwen."

Time and the room begin to shift after he passed the phone back to Gwen. Suddenly, he's tired. Exhausted, really. And his body feels like it weights more than Mjolnir. He feels Gwen moving his hands to his abdomen. "I need you to hold the towel in place." He nods because the notion that he can even attempt to form words is hysterical. In fact, it makes him laugh. That's when he learns that, like aerial escapades, laughing and stab wounds do not mix.

Eyes close. Eyes open and Gwen is clearing off her desk and making room for the two superheroes to climb through the window. Eyes close. Eyes open and Gwen has taken over holding the towel in place because he can't do it. Eyes close. Eyes open and Bruce is climbing through the bedroom window. Eyes close but snap open when he feels a set of knuckles rub roughly on his sternum. "Keep 'em open, kid. You gotta stay with us." Tony whispers as Gwen moves the towels to show Bruce the damage.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Banner. I know you aren't a medical doctor but I didn't know who else to call. I can normally handle…" She was starting to ramble but stopped when Bruce raised his hand.

"It's not a problem. I'm glad you thought to call us. And it's Bruce, remember?" His voice was calm and low. He squeezed her hand. "You did a good job, Gwen. There wasn't much else you could have done. We just need to get him stabilized so we can move him. Just keep him talking. Keep him awake."

She did her best to keep Peter awake, but by that time the blood loss had drug him to the brink of exhaustion. He could recollect little after that. The stitches that Bruce looped into him should have hurt, but by that time shock had taken over and Peter felt little to nothing. He didn't feel them go in but he felt it when they tore a few minutes later.

Eyes open. He's on the fire escape with one arm around Tony's neck. Peter swears he can hear them rip wide open and bites on his lip to keep from yelping. Someone swears and he can't help but agree. This sucks. From there, it is a relatively uneventful trip. Bruce uses the towels from Gwen's room in an attempt to stem the bleeding, and they head to the SHIELD headquarters that aren't far away. Peter wished she could come with them but they need to keep up appearances. Peter could go missing in the middle of the night. Gwen could not. It was a miracle her family hadn't heard anything. Best not to tempt fate.

"I'm getting blood on your seats."

"I'll send you the bill, Bug Boy."

When Peter woke up in the next day, the pain was reduced to a dull ache. He could thank the IV in his hand for that. Bruce was passed out in the chair next to the bed, a blanket on his lap and his glasses half-way down his nose. He debated for a minute on whether or not to wake the tired doctor. Deciding it was probably best to let him know he was doing much better; Peter leaned over slightly and shook his knee. "Hey, why don't you go to bed Big Guy?"

"I could ask you the same thing." He replied lightly and rubbed the back of his neck.

"You didn't have to stay in here last night." Peter fidgeted under his blanket.

Bruce didn't reply, just fixed him with a look and set about checking his bandages. "You heal pretty quickly but that was a deep wound. You had some internal bleeding, that's why Gwen couldn't get the bleeding to stop." That also explains why using his webshooters to plug up the knife wound didn't work like it did with a gunshot wound. Bruce's voice cut through his thoughts. "You'll be down for at least a couple days." Using a pen light, he checked Peter's pupils and then sat back in his chair. "Keep both feet on the ground and get some rest. Take some time to heal. You got a nice concussion last night, too. We were more worried about your blood loss, almost over looked it."

"Aye Aye, Captain."

"That's not my title." Bruce smirked, "He wants to speak with you by the way." Peter tried not to groan. "Hey, I warned you last night that you'd probably be hearing from him."

Dropping back into the pillow, Peter ran a hand through his hair. "I need to call Aunt May and Gwen first. If anyone gets first dibs on giving a lecture it's her."

"Tony gave her a call once you were stable last night, but I'm sure she'll want to hear from you." He handed Peter his phone. "You left yours on Gwen's floor last night."

"Thanks, Bruce." The doctor began to leave the room. "Hey, Bruce!" He stopped at the door and turned. "Thank you, for everything."

"Like I said, it's not a problem. Next time, call us first. Don't scare ten years off of your girlfriend." And with that he left Peter to his phone call. Figuring it was best to fill Aunt May in, he dialed her number first. And by fill in, he planned on coming up with a nice detailed lie to appease her. She picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?" He could feel the tension in her voice.

"Hi, Aunt May. It's me." How many times would he have this conversation with her? The guilt tore at his uneasy stomach.

"Peter! Where are you? I've been worried sick! Why aren't you calling from your phone? I've left so many messages." At least, the worry was gone from her voice. She sounded relieved now.

"I'm at work, Aunt May. Mr. Stark called me in late last night and I just haven't been able to get away. I should have called, just got caught up here." This lie worked every time. Blame his absence on his 'job' and ignore the question about the phone. After being recruited by SHIELD, it was only logical to make up a front as to why Peter would be spending time at Avenger Tower. As far as anyone knew, including his aunt, Peter was an intern for Stark Industries. The cover came in handy when he needed to come up with any excuses as to why he was late or missing. Mr. Stark sure is a demanding boss.

"Oh, alright. Well, next time call, will you? Are you going to be staying late or will you be able to make dinner?" The weight of that statement hit Peter like a ton of bricks. Dinner. How could he forget? It was Uncle Ben's birthday. Even though he had been gone for a couple years now, he and Aunt May still continued to acknowledge the day. They started a tradition of going to visit the cemetery and having a quiet dinner at home, just the two of them. Aunt May made Uncle Ben's favorite meal and they reminisced the evening away.

"Are you kidding? Of course, I'll be there, wouldn't miss it for the world." He couldn't miss dinner tonight. It just wasn't an option.

"If you're too busy, I understand dear. Are you sure?" Her voice hitched. She was trying not to get her hopes up. Peter knew he hadn't been around much lately. He needed to work on that. There was a lot he needed to work on. Being someone his Aunt could depend on and not scaring his girlfriend were at the top of that list.

"I'm positive. I'll just have to tell Mr. Stark I have a hot date for the evening. He will understand." She laughed and Peter's heart soared. Aunt May didn't laugh enough. He should work on that too. Add that to the list.

"Does he still call Gwen, Gorgeous Gwen?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Yes. And just for the record you are Magnificent May."

"Well I don't know about that," she teased lightly. "I'll let you go dear. Get your work finished. Dinner is at 6:30. I love you." He returned the sentiment and hung up the phone. Crap. Now he had a whole new problem to deal with. Originally, he had planned on being the model patient for Bruce. Six months with the Avengers and it was clear to Peter that none of them knew how to be a good patient. He was hoping to cut the poor guy some slack. So much for that, he couldn't miss this dinner.

Hence, The Challenge.

Five feet down, ten to go. He never wanted to complete and quit something so badly in his life. He looked over his shoulder at the bed he had been laying in not too long ago. It was oh, so tempting. All he had to do was say the word and he'd be comfortable again in a soft bed with an arm full of strong painkillers. Bruce had pulled the doctor card on him, took the IV out and made him wait for some of the drugs to leave his system before starting The Challenge. That's where all of the pain came from. Peter didn't complain though. It was one of the rules of The Challenge.

"I don't think he's going to make it, Bird Brain. I think the stitches are going to pop again." Tony analyzed the scene with a critical eye.

"I can hear you, you know." Peter huffed and began to move forward again. He threw a prayer up to the ceiling that the stitches held this time. He didn't need a repeat of what happened on the fire escape last night. Plus, he didn't want Stark to win the bet he had going with Clint.

"Yeah, I know", he smirked at the teenager. "I only speak the truth."

"Bullshit." Multiple people voiced at once. Tony huffed and rolled his eyes.

"I fear I do not understand what the Man of Spiders is trying to accomplish." Thor chimed in this time. They were all in attendance. Why they were all present was a mystery, but they were nonetheless.

"I'm trying to go home, Thor." Peter managed to muster out while taking another step.

"But it seems you are in a great deal of pain. Would not it be wiser to stay here and rest?" Peter would roll his eyes if it were anyone but Thor. Thor always got a pass because he was just so damn endearing and unassuming.

"It would be wiser." Cap's voice was stern. He did not like this one bit and showed his concern by having a wheelchair ready if Peter were to need it. Not that there weren't a handful of superheroes fully capable of carrying the lightweight teenager standing in the hall. "But just like everyone else on this team, he's too stubborn to let it go and stay in bed."

"Can't let it go, Cap. I've got a date with a lady. You can understand that, right?" It was a low blow but he needed the leader to see that he had to do this. A small part of him wanted Cap's approval. Steve sighed lightly and nodded. Yes, he could understand that. He didn't like it one bit, but he could understand.

"You aren't the best patient either there, Spangles." Tony pointed out. "One day in the hospital and you're climbing the walls just like the rest of us."

"Exactly! One day! Peter hasn't been here a solid twelve hours."

"Two points for ya, Steve. One, rules are rules. If he doesn't make it to the door, he goes back no question. And two, you've completed the Challenge before." Clint piped up with a smirk.

"I was in better shape than he is now," Steve argued back.

"Awww cut him some slack. I was starting to worry that we had recruited the wrong vigilante. Six months with us and this is the first time he's tried one. It's a milestone! It's like he's going off to his first day of school or something." Peter snorted at Hawkeye's logic.

The room was silent for a moment, until Thor broke the spell. "I'm afraid I still do not understand."

"Thor ol' buddy, ol' pal, let me explain The Challenge to you." Clint threw an arm around the big guy's shoulders. "You see when one wants to leave the hospital wing, he or she can do it one of three ways. The first way is in a body bag, which no one wants. The second is after getting medical clearance, which can sometimes take too long. And the third is by completing The Challenge…" He went on to explain the rules to the Asgardian who listened like a child being told a bedtime story.

In the meantime, Peter slowly inched his way toward the door. He was so close, maybe a foot away. With one final burst of energy, he closed the gap and grasped the door knob holding onto it like a lifeline. It took a minute for him to realize that the only sound in the room was his raspy breathing. He turned to see all eyes on him. They wouldn't stop him from leaving but the expressions on their faces spoke volumes. Deciding that he was done being stubborn, Peter turned to Cap and said, "I think I'm ready for that wheelchair now." Reacting instantly, Steve was at his side and gently but firmly guided him into the seat. "Who knew walking down a hallway could take so much out of you?" Stupid question, really, because they all knew.

"It's still pretty early in the afternoon. You have plenty of time to rest up before dinner. Someone will take you home. You may be able to leave but that still doesn't mean you can swing home." Bruce took pity on him and hooked up the IV again.

"I'll have Happy drop you off." Tony chimed in. "It's the least I can do for being such a slave driver of a boss."

A/N 2: Constructive criticism and feedback are always appreciated Stay tuned for the next chapter!


	2. Part II

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed, read, and/or added this story to your favorites/alert list. I appreciate the support! As always, I own nothing. Here is Part II. I hope you all like it!

Part II

With every fiber of his being, Peter wanted nothing more than to continue leaning out of the window of the apartment building. Actually, he wanted nothing more than to leave the apartment building. But when said building was burning to the ground with dozens of innocent people still trapped inside, his own wants didn't factor into the equation. The whole situation was unraveling so quickly that even with enhanced abilities Peter was struggling to keep up. He had been on a routine patrol when the explosion caught his attention. The fire department speculated that a gas leak was to blame. All Peter Parker knew was that the building was eleven floors high and the explosion occurred on the seventh floor. The residents on levels one through six seemed to be getting out with no problem but the poor folks residing above the seventh floor had limited options. He didn't let himself think about the people who used to call the seventh floor home. The lucky few who had been out of building at the time of the explosion would lose all of their possessions but retain their lives. As for the others, who weren't fortunate enough to be out and about, the reports weren't looking good and the list of survivors wasn't long.

Taking one last gulp of clean air, the web-slinger turned from the window and ran back into the fiery inferno that used to be someone's living room. In the twenty minutes since he had arrived on scene, he had managed to clear two floors. So far, the building was holding up but Peter wasn't about to consider that a win. The flames hadn't reached the roof just yet, but it was only a matter of time. He needed to move faster. Sprinting out of the living room and into the hallway, he saw more people emerging from the stairwell. _Good,_ he thought. _This will save me some time._

"Everyone!" He bellowed over the chaos. "Come with me!" Several heads snapped at attention before it occurred to them who was speaking. "Trust me, those stairs won't get you far. I know a short cut." When he had first arrived on scene, the first people he had run into were (naturally) in a full blown panic. The stairwell collapsed under the weight of the explosion. Apparently they were still usable on the 10th floor but not below that. Peter had taken to scaling the outside of the building to move from the eighth floor to the ninth, and now from the ninth to the tenth. Leading the group of people back through the apartment he had just left, Peter began to cough. The smoke was too thick and showed no signs of letting up anytime soon. Leaning out of the window once again, he greedily inhaled and looked around to see if there were any fire fighters close by. When he spotted a ladder two levels down, he thanked his lucky stars before turning to the person standing closest to him: a teenage girl about his age.

Taking her hand in his, he inched her closer to the window. "I'm going to drop you onto the ladder, okay?"

Dark curls swung back and forth as she expressed what she felt about this idea. "It's too high! I'm scared." Robust tears rolled down her cheeks leaving a clean trail in the soot on her face. Her voice quaked and body shook. Normally, Peter would be more patient but there simply wasn't the time. The building was starting to groan and quiver around them.

"I know you're scared but you don't have a choice. It's either this or you wait to see if the fire department can get to you." She whimpered and struggled when he picked her up and placed her feet through the open window. With a gasp of surprise, Peter nudged her off the ledge before catching her wrist in his fine webbing. The look she shot at him was filled with fear and anger. She did not appreciate what he had just done. Peter didn't care, though. He could live with the citizens of New York being irritated and angry with him. He couldn't live with himself if a girl who was young enough to still be in high school died when he could have done something about it. Turning back to the group inside the building, he said, "I promise I won't drop any of you. Please, we have to hurry." After that, no one else objected to being helped out of the building via the window.

When the last of this group was safely on the ground, a fireman got Peter's attention using an amplifier. "We have a ladder up on the other side of the building; more people are getting out that way. But what we need is for someone to start at the top and move the people down to the ladder." Peter heard the question in the man's statement. Giving him a salute, Peter swiftly maneuvered out of the window and climbed the side of the building to the top. Things weren't looking much better from this angle, either. Taking the opportunity to breathe in some clean air, he began to assess the situation a little clearer. Civilians were pouring out the front of the building while fire fighters rushed in looking for survivors. Flames leapt from broken windows and black smoke spewed from every opening. Peter felt the building shudder once more and quickened his pace. When he reached the eleventh floor, he wasted no time breaking into someone's apartment. Funny how breaking and entering is acceptable, if not encouraged, some of the time. Peter also found it amusing that the city was actually asking for his help. Following The Lizard Incident and Captain Stacy's death, the police and public still didn't think too highly of him. Sure he had some fans, or at least a few people, who appreciated what he did. But for the most part, he was still high on the police's most wanted list.

Quickly surveying the unit, and finding it to be empty, he bolted to the hallway on the eleventh floor. "Hello? Is anyone here?" He banged on doors as he ran the length of the hall. The majority of the apartments were abandoned as the residents had already fled in search of an escape. The rest were still locked, which led Peter to believe the renters weren't home. After another quick sweep of the floor, he headed to the stairwell and down to the tenth floor, where he found people lined up to climb down the ladder. Peter realized that the line wasn't moving fast enough when the building groaned and shifted slightly. The movement wasn't enough to cause damage but time was running out and there were still more than ten people left to go down the ladder. Skipping to the front of the line, he looked out the window to see that the ladder was full of people moving as fast as they could. The building rumbled again and from this angle he could see that the building was starting to sway.

"Change of plan people!" He shouted above the chaos. "I want the more able adults to stay here and go down the ladder. Kids come with me!" He was speaking directly to the family in front of him. The three small children turned fearfully to their parents as Peter approached them. Speaking to the father, Peter dropped his voice so that the children couldn't hear what he was about to say. "I'll take them with me. It'll be quicker. The building won't hold for much longer." The father hesitated for only a moment before turning to his oldest child, a boy who looked to be around twelve.

"I want you to take Maggie and Sam and go with Spider-Man." He laughed for a moment, his voice shaking. "Never thought I'd hear myself say that. Go with him and we'll get out this way. We'll meet you at the park bench across the street." Then he kissed each of his three kids and pushed them towards Peter. The oldest took the other two by the hand and looked up Peter.

"We'll be outta here before you can say 'Hey Mom! Watch this!'" Peter promised the family and turned to the closest window that didn't have flames around it. He shoved the window open and assessed the situation. The oldest was tall for his age and weighed probably the same as the other two combined. He couldn't take all three at once. "Okay, I'm going to take these two and then come back for you. Stay right here." He told the oldest before speaking to the younger two. "You guys like piggy back rides?" When they both nodded, he exclaimed, "Me too! We're gonna go on a double piggy back ride." He crouched down so they could both climb onto his back. "Hold on tight!" And then he made quick work of descending the building. Normally, he would have just swung down but with two kids holding onto his neck there was a very real possibility one of them would fall off. As soon as they touched down, he felt the arms around his neck go slack. A moment later, the little girl, Maggie, was standing in front of him. She quickly hugged him and kissed the side of his dirty mask before saying, "Don't forget Nathan."

"I won't. I'll be right back." Within a minute or so, Peter reached the tenth floor and saw that the line was, thankfully, shorter than it had been a few minutes before. He threw a thumbs-up to the worried parents before grabbing Nathan and heading back down again. When they were safely on the ground, he received another thank you kiss before the trio headed to the park bench across the street. Stopping only long enough to take in the situation, Peter saw that the majority of the building was in flames. Quickly navigating the side of the building once more, he climbed through the window on the tenth floor to see that everyone was on the ladder and moving to safety. "Is that everyone?" He yelled to the last man on the ladder.

"Yes! I was the last one to get out." Peter breathed a sigh of relief before leaving the building for the last time. This time, he had to swing down because the side of the building was engulfed in flames. Shooting a web to the brick building adjacent to the window, he bolted out of the smoky room and into clean air. He normally wouldn't linger around, seeing how he and the police weren't on the best of terms, but part of him wanted to make sure the parents from the tenth floor found Nathan, Maggie, and Sam. From where Peter was standing, he could see that the children were still alone and made to join them when a terrible scream pierced the air. The cry made Peter turn on the spot and examine the building. Surely, if someone were screaming like that it would be because the building was coming down. But his Spidey Sense wasn't tingling and the building was still standing. He heard the cry again and realized it was a woman screaming. Changing directions, he made his way towards the distraught woman just in time to hear her say, "My baby! My baby is in there!"

"Ma'am, you have to calm down. Which apartment would your child be in?" A police officer was doing his best to calm the lady but nothing seemed to help. She was now trying to run towards the building, only to be held back by another officer.

"She's on the top floor. She was by herself. I left her alone while I was at work. She won't answer the door to strangers. Please, I know she's in there! I have to get my baby!" She was fighting tooth and nail to get out of the policeman's grasp.

"Ma'am, we cleared the eleventh floor. Spider-Man got everyone out of the top floors." The officer caught sight of Peter and waved him over. "If she was in the apartment, she must be out here somewhere."

"She's not here! I'm telling you she wouldn't have opened the door for a stranger." When Peter was within arm's reach, she grabbed his hand and pleaded with him. "You have to go back in. She would have opened the door for an officer or fireman but not a stranger." Fear flooded into Peter's stomach as he thought about the doors that were still locked on the eleventh floor. What if there was a little girl in one of them? What if knocking on the door and yelling hadn't been enough? Turning to the police officers, he knew that they were all on the same page. He was the only one who could get the top floor. The fire had eaten through most of the building and could collapse at any moment.

"Which apartment?" He asked as he heading back into the building for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

"11D," the woman replied. The raw terror on her face made Peter move faster. Going in this time wouldn't be easy. He couldn't scale the side of the building and the ladders were being taken down. Instead, he scurried up the wall of the adjacent building to the roof. From there, he could see that the roof of the apartment building was still intact and leapt onto it. Running faster than ever, he barreled through the stairwell that led from the roof to the eleventh floor only to find that he had zero visibility. It seemed that every inch of the stairwell was filled with smoke. He couldn't breathe. The air was unbreathable. He choked and retched before dropping to his knees and finding that the air at ground level was a little more tolerable. As he crawled down the stairs on his hands and knees, his Spidey Sense began to hum. This made him move even faster. Keeping as low to the ground as possible, he crawled from door to door looking for 11D. Luckily, it was close to the stairwell. Peter stood long enough to check the apartment number, feel how warm the door was, and yell, "If you're behind the door, stand back! I'm going to kick it down." He then made good on his promise and entered the apartment. "Are you in here? You're Mom sent me to come get you." He had hoped that the child would be waiting for him when he walked in but should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

Cursing under his breath, he started the tedious task of searching the whole apartment. After clearing the living room, he entered the first bedroom on the right. Peter couldn't make out the decorations on the wall but could tell that most everything was pink. He could make out a plastic doll house and Barbies on the floor. And suddenly, there was the child he was looking for. She was hiding under the bed and her eyes locked onto his. "Hey there, your Mom asked me to come get you." He tried to coax her out from under the bed, but she shook her head before he could finish the sentence and moved further from him.

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. Or let them into the house. I don't know you." Her big brown eyes were conflicted. After all, it's not every day that Spider-Man literally crawls into your bedroom. But rules were rules and she wasn't supposed to go anywhere with a stranger. After a moment, she added, "My mom will come get me."

Instead of arguing with that statement, Peter decided to change his tactics. "What's your name?"

"Nadine."

"Well Nadine I'm not a stranger; I'm your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. You know who I am, right?" Peter could see her contemplating and considering what to do next. In the meantime, his Spidey Sense moved from a dull hum to a vibration. "You don't really what to stay here, do you? It's kinda hard to breathe and it's hot. It's not safe here now. I'll take you to your Mom. But we have to go now."

She considered for another moment before sliding out from under the bed. "It's easier to breathe if we stay down here. Let's race to the door. Last one there has to get us out of here." Naturally, Peter let Nadine win. As they moved towards the staircase that would lead to the roof, Peter noticed that the air at ground level was getting harder to breathe. "Why don't you climb on my back? You did win the race. I'll take it from here." Nadine shuffled on his back. He took a couple deep breaths before saying, "Hold on tight." Then, using the handrail to guide him, Peter sprinted up the stairs and toward fresh air. He was just about to step onto the roof when his Spidey Senses screamed at him and he automatically stopped to take in his surroundings. Flames licked the sides of the roof and black smoke rose even higher. There was danger all around them but the question was which danger was the worst? Which would get them killed right now? Nadine figured it out before him.

"Even the floor is smoking," she pointed out. Sure enough, thick grey smoke was tumbling up through the roof and Peter knew that the roof wasn't stable. It was going to collapse. Now their options were more limited than ever. He couldn't walk on the roof, which meant he couldn't get a running start to jump off the side of the roof. He could head back down the stairwell and try to go out a window but last he checked that wasn't really an option either. "What do we do now?" Nadine's voice trembled and Peter became more aware of her small body on his back. She was so warm and he could feel that she was sweating through her clothes. Every so often a coughing fit would run through her and her whole body jerked. He didn't know how to answer that question. How do you tell a little girl that she might not see her mom again?

There were a couple news helicopters hovering nearby. He could try to fire a web onto one of those and swing down. Waving his armed wildly, he tried desperately to get the pilot's attention. After a moment, Peter could see that it was moving in their direction but something else was moving faster, flying right at them. Moments later, a red and gold metal figure hovered inches above the smoking roof. "How's it going Web-Head?"

"Don't touch down," Peter warned. "It's going to collapse."

Tony flipped up his mask. "Yeah, I know. Give me the kid. We gotta move." But when Tony reached for Nadine her arms tightened around Peter's neck and her body tensed.

"It's okay, Nadine. He's my friend and you can trust him." He quickly shifted her from his back to his arms and handed her to Tony.

"I'm his boss, my dear. Don't let him fool you." Tony scoffed. "Can you get down?"

"No, I'm going to catch a ride with you."

"I figured as much. I had Jarvis scan the building. It's only a matter of time before…"

His Spidey Sense roared and without thinking, Peter let loose a bio-cable that hit nothing but air. Tony didn't get to finish his sentence before the building gave out from under Peter and he was tumbling. Tony yelled something. But all Peter knew was heat and smoke and flame. And then he knew nothing.

The first thing Peter noticed when he came to was the cleanliness of the air. His lungs weren't on fire anymore and his eyes didn't burn from smoke. Actually, he couldn't remember the last time it was so easy to breathe. The only aspect that hadn't changed from the last time he was conscious was how tired he left. But this time it was a different kind of tired. This kind of exhaustion came from medicine. Every part of his body felt heavy, as if a metal blanket was keeping him firmly in place. The thought of opening his eyelids was so comical that Peter would have laughed if he had the energy. While sight was out of the question, he let his other senses kick in and give him some information about his current situation. The air was so fresh and clean, almost too clean. That was the first bit of information that gave Peter the notion that he was in a hospital bed. After feeling around on the bed (scratchy sheets, typical of a hospital bed) up to his face, he found an oxygen mask situated over his nose. That explained why it was so easy to breathe. After that, his mind began to clear a little. He was aware of a heart monitor chirping softly in the background and the soft whoosh of air being delivered straight to his nostrils. Oddly enough, he didn't feel pain. For some reason, there should have been pain. His ears perked up at the sound of movement and he could sense someone approaching the side of the bed.

"Peter, can you open your eyes?" Again, Peter wanted to laugh at the request but found that he didn't have the energy to spare. He tried to respond with a 'No' that turned into a coughing fit. He hadn't realized how raw his throat was until he tried to talk. All of a sudden the smell from last night filled his nostrils and head. It was a horrible scent that could be summoned by thought alone. It was a scent associated with burning buildings, flames, and tragedy. With the scent came the remnants of auditory memories from the previous night. Children screaming, dogs barking, people shouting, and the roof crashing in on itself.

And just like that, it wasn't difficult to open his eyes because keeping them closed seemed impossible. He didn't want to remember the previous night. The feeling of dread that he felt every time he returned to the burning apartment building to find a child he had missed or couldn't carry out on the previous trip. The way his heart pounded in his head and ears because there was simply no way he could get everyone out before the entire building went down. The burning sensation that filled his lungs and muscles as he pushed himself beyond capacity to reach just one more person came rushing back to him. There was the pain he was expecting when he woke up. It rested deep in his chest making it even harder to breathe. He just couldn't breathe. The oxygen mask was suffocating him.

Eyes wide open; he yanked the oxygen mask off his face and sat up in one fluid motion. Then the world was spinning, and he was disoriented. After a moment, Peter realized that he hadn't been lying on his back in the hospital bed. He had been on his right side close to the edge, with the railing pulled up to prevent him from rolling out. As he looked around the room, he took note of a few things. The first being the look on Phil Coulson and Clint Barton's faces. They hadn't expected his outburst and were still recovering. Next, there was a strained, terrible wheezing sound coming from somewhere in the room. Finally, he was only clothed from the waist down as large white bandages were covering a majority of the left side of his torso. For a half of a second, the three men just stared at one another. The only sounds in the room were the wheezing and the rapid reporting of Peter's heart monitor.

"Peter, you need to calm down." Agent Coulson was first to break the silence. He took a tentative step towards the teen and gently brought the oxygen mask back to his face.

"What is all of this?" Peter looked at the IVs and electrodes hooked up to him, not to mention the excessive bandages covering a fourth of his body. His voice sounded funny in his ears but he pulled away slightly when Phil approached him with the oxygen. "What the hell is going on?"

"Put this back on, get your breathing under control, then I'll fill you in." Peter raised an eyebrow at the man in the suit. Get his breathing under control? Oh right, the wheezing sound.

"I can't wear that thing. I felt like it was suffocating me." He dodged Phil's attempts once more.

"You need it, Pete. You inhaled too much smoke last night. Put it on."

Reluctantly, Peter took the mask and breathed deeply, greedily. Then he lowered it again to ask, "Nadine? Is she okay?"

"The little girl Stark had when the building went down? She's a little banged up. A couple of burns and too much smoke in her lungs but she'll be fine," Clint said. "Her Mom said thank you."

"Good," Peter wheezed. "That's good." He took a second to his bearings. One hand clutched the mask to his face while the other grasped the bed railing. His body had decided the oxygen mask wasn't killing him and now his lungs couldn't get enough air. Last night, he made numerous trips in and out of that apartment building. Peter was willing to bet that he couldn't walk up a flight of stairs now if his life depended on it. Deciding he would feel better if he lay back down, he shifted his weight to recline but didn't get far before he was stopped by both men.

"Lay on your side," Clint recommended. Confused, Peter looked down at his torso. Somehow he had forgotten about the bandages on his side.

"Get comfortable and we'll fill you in." This came from Phil, who was using every opportunity to make Peter be a model patient.

"You said you'd fill me in if I put the mask back on," Peter rolled his eyes. "Can't believe anything you people say."

"Allow me to rephrase that. Get comfortable or I'll have Dr. Cho knock you out the Western Medicine Way." Phil retorted. Peter couldn't tell if the man was joking or not but the comment rubbed him the wrong way. He was tired and for some reason his lungs forgot how to work without the help of an oxygen tank.

"Or I could just call Challenge, leave here, and do whatever the hell I want." He shot back, realizing how juvenile he sounded.

"Seriously? He's picked that up in the few weeks that I was gone?" The question was directed to Clint, who just shrugged.

"It was bound to happen. Maybe if you hadn't been off doing top secret spy things that you won't tell us about, you could have prevented this." Clint was still a little miffed that Phil took a leave of absence without filling in him or Natasha. "Besides, he can't call Challenge and be on oxygen and morphine. He's not going anywhere. Relax." At Clint's comment, Peter turned his attention to the IV in his hand and the medication hanging from a pole by the bed. That explained the lead blanket weighing him down. While the two of them bickered back and forth, Peter slowly eased himself back onto his right side. He sighed with relief when the room stopped spinning.

"What are the chances we can stop the morphine drip?" His question caused Phil and Clint to turn their attention to the young superhero.

"I don't think you want to do that. You have second and third degree burns on your left side." Phil pulled a chair to the side of the bed and spoke to Peter through the bedside railing. "You're pretty banged up."

"Do you want us to tell you what happened? Or show you?" Clint asked as he scrolled through his phone. "You're a YouTube sensation, Pete. Someone caught the whole thing on tape." He turned the phone around so Peter could see the screen. On the screen, a building was frozen in time with a 'play' symbol planted in the middle. He took the phone from the archer and touched the middle of the screen to start the video. Even after turning up the volume, all that could be heard was the whistle of wind. Whoever shot the video must have been on a nearby rooftop. The video showed the flames and smoke engulfing the building. The picture wasn't very clear but after a moment Peter could make out a gritty outline of himself in costume. He watched the figure scan the skies, looking for a solution. A few moments later, Tony entered the picture and took Nadine from Peter. And then it happened. Without any notice, the roof caved in taking Peter with it. And Tony dove in after him. Peter almost dropped the phone. _What the hell was he thinking? He had a kid with him. The suit would protect him but not Nadine._ He watched with baited breath for something to happen. And then there was Tony again. Nadine was still in his arms but now Spider-Man was dangling beneath him. And he was on fire! Flames ate away at his suit as Tony quickly landed on the ground. From there the video gets shaky, probably because the cameraperson had to run to the edge of the rooftop to see where they landed. By the time the camera reached the edge of the roof, the crowd below had engulfed the trio and nothing more could be seen. The video ended there.

"The people on the street got the flames out pretty fast but there was still damage. Dr. Cho is confident you'll make a full recovery." Clint filled in the gaps for Peter. He handed the phone back to its owner and slid the mask off of his nose once again. For a moment, he was confident he would throw up.

"You shouldn't have shown him that." Phil scowled at his agent.

"It's fine," Peter's voice squeaked. "It's just not every day that you see a video of yourself on fire, that's all." No one said anything as Peter calmed himself down. After a few deep breathes, he was able to put the mask back on. "Where is Tony, anyway?"

"He's been in the lab with Bruce since last night. They are working on a new suit for you." Phil answered, "Researching flame resistant fabrics and materials. Spandex wasn't your best friend last night." Peter snorted at the comment.

"That's not the only modification they're making." Clint added after a moment. Peter arched an eyebrow at him. "They are going to put something in the mask so you can contact us if you need back up. I know we aren't always in the area, but you can depend on us when we're here."

"I thought you guys were only around for end of the world battles," Peter joked. But the look Clint gave him stopped him in his tracks. He wasn't playing around.

"You could have died, Pete. We were waiting for you to call us in." He chuckled darkly. "We were idiots. Me and Stark were at The Tower screwing around when the news came on. And we watched for a half hour while you went back and forth out of that building. We knew it was bad but figured you'd call for back-up if you needed it."

"I didn't need it," Peter's response was defensive. Hadn't he got everyone out of the building? Maybe he was cutting it close with Nadine but they made it to the roof, hadn't they?

"You did!" Clint snapped at the teen. "You did need help. If Stark hadn't been there, you and that kid would be dead." An uncomfortable silence filled the room as Peter and Clint glared at each other.

"Okay, that's enough." Phil attempted to keep the peace. "We can do this another time. When you aren't high on pain killers."

"Nope," Clint cut him off. "We're gonna do this right now. You're good, Peter. None of us is saying otherwise. But you are part of this team now and that means that we have each other's backs. That means that you don't go into an unstable situation without back-up. I know you are used to operating alone but you aren't on your own anymore."

"So I was just supposed to stop helping the people get out? Step outside to make a phone call? There wasn't any time."

Clint let the snarky comment pass. "That's what Tony is working on now. He's going to rig your suit up somehow so you can send us a distress signal if you need us. I'm not saying it'll be perfect because things get pretty crazy around here. But at least you'll have the option to call us in if you get in over your head."

Peter stewed for a minute while he thought about the situation. Hands down that had been the worst fire he had helped out with. But he had been doing this for a while now and didn't need back-up. He got along just fine before Phil Coulson showed up at school and introduced him to this life. Everything about this situation drained him. The morphine wanted to take him back under. The left side of his body didn't hurt, per say, but something was wrong with it. It was stiff and uncooperative. The rattling in his lungs set his teeth on edge. He couldn't think straight. And he made the mistake of closing his eyes to clear his head and shut out Clint's concerned expression. The image of Spider-Man falling through the roof was seared into his brain. Clint was right. Last night could have ended very differently. For a moment, Peter wondered what lie would be told to Aunt May if he were to die on the job.

His eyes slid open, at the same time he lowered the oxygen mask once more so that both men could hear what he had to say. "I don't need help." He pushed on before either one could interrupt him. "But it would be nice to have the option. Just in case something gets out of hand."

Clint and Phil exchanged a look before turning back to Peter. "Okay," Clint agreed with an easy smile on his face. "I'll let everyone know that's settled." The teen nodded slightly and placed the oxygen back over his nose. After a second, Clint noticed that he was glaring at the morphine drip. "Leave it. We'll talk to Dr. Cho about tapering it off tomorrow. For now, just give yourself some time to rest."

"I need to let Gwen know I'm okay," The mask muffled Peter's voice but they got the gist of what he was saying.

"We already talked to her. She was blowing up your phone last night." Phil addressed this issue. "She'll be around tomorrow sometime. When we can make it look like she's visiting you while you're at 'work'."

"Work?" Peter questioned.

"Yeah, we aren't at SHIELD. We're at The Tower. Stark figured you'd be more likely to be a good patient if you weren't in the hospital." Barton smirked. Peter had to hand it to them. They had covered all of their bases.

"Aunt May?"

"May Parker received a text from her nephew late last night stating that he was working through the night and probably wouldn't be around for a few days. She doesn't think too highly of your boss." Phil and Clint shared another look. "Everything is taken care of. Just get relax and get better."

Peter took in the way Phil's normally immaculate suit was rumpled and creased. Clint's eyes were bloodshot. Realizing that he had worried them enough for one day, he threw them both a wink and finally let the morphine take him under. Before he fell asleep, he could have sworn he heard someone say 'We've got your back, kid'. But maybe that was the morphine talking? Either way, Peter was able rest easily knowing that he had a team he could depend on.

A/N 2: Push the review button. You know you want to. Stay tuned for the third and final part! I should have it up next weekend.


	3. Part III

A/N: Here it is! The grand finale of 'The Challenge'! I hope you all enjoyed it. I have plans for one more story. Hopefully, it will be posted before Captain America: Civil War. When I wrote these stories, I had Andrew Garfield in mind. Once Tom Holland takes over as Peter Parker, I don't know where the plot bunnies will take me. Fingers crossed he does a good job! I wanted everyone's opinion about the next story. It will be five chapters and each chapter will be a one shot. I have it set up so that each chapter has a theme and is a certain amount of time after the end of The Amazing Spider-Man 2. Would you rather the chapter be posted in chronological order? Or out of order? Let me know what you think. As always, I own nothing.

Part III

The space that Peter was trapped in was so dark he couldn't see his hand in front of his face. Not that he could wave his hand in front of his face. But if he could, he knew, without a doubt, that it wouldn't be visible. And yet, it seemed like he could make out the rubble surrounding him. Maybe he was imagining it? The rubble, chunks of concrete, and debris were there. But aside from wiggling around the little that he could, he had no way of telling where it was. Sighing deeply, irritated with the predicament he was currently in, he laid his head back on the hard ground and tried to regulate his breathing. Thankfully, there was nothing wrong with the air. The problem was his rib cage and how it was crammed between two hunks of concrete.

"Spidey? You still doing okay under there?" Clint's voice was clear in his ear.

"I'm just peachy," he grumbled and tried once again to move any part of his body, without success.

"Nothing has changed, right? No shifts? Your head is clear?"

"No change," Peter confirmed. "I'm still a spider pancake."

"We'll re-inflate you later." Peter chuckled and then changed the subject.

"How's everything going out there?"

"It's starting to slow down some. Thor knocked out a huge pack of 'em a few minutes ago. Luckily, the portal wasn't open that long so too many didn't get through. Just enough to be a pain in the ass. And no flying monsters this time. I'll count that as a win." Clint relayed as he continued to survey the area. Of course, Peter couldn't actually see that Clint was scanning the skies, but he could hear it in his voice. The archer's voice was all business. He could imagine Clint's eyes rotating from one teammate to the next while he looked for more Chitauri.

"Were we able to get the civilians out of the way?"

"For the most part, but there were casualties." Peter's heart sank. The whole team had been in New York when Thor touched down. His explanation had been brief, but from what Peter had gathered, somehow, a portal connecting Asgard and Earth had been opened. The God of Thunder said that his fellow companions were doing what they could to close the portal on the Asgard end, but he was fairly confident that Chitauri would try to go through it. In record time, all were assembled and on the Quinjet ready for action.

"Thor, I want you, Natasha, and Hulk to finish off the last of 'em," Steve's voice was in Peter's ear now. "Stark, I need your help assessing the damage. We gotta figure out how to get Peter out. Barton, watch our backs. Don't let anything sneak up on us." Peter released a breath he hadn't realize he'd been holding. It was about time. He'd been stuck for over an hour and was starting to get edgy. Peter heard Tony acknowledge Steve's order. He assumed that Tony had landed right beside the rubble. He couldn't see or hear because there was so much on top of him; but, after a moment Stark asked Jarvis is analyze the pile of rubble.

He could tell when Cap arrived by the low whistle he let out. "Any idea where he is?" The question was directed at Tony.

"Jarvis identified a heat signature over there and it seems like the top layer is pretty stable. We should be able to start moving some of it off without any trouble."

"Okay, let's get to it. Any idea how far down he is?"

"At least ten feet," Tony said. "We should probably start out a little farther. The last thing we need is for all this to shift on top of him because we didn't make the hole big enough." Through the microphone, Peter could hear the senior most team members start to shift concrete slabs and debris.

"Hey Peter," Cap got his attention. "Let us know if there is any change, okay? If this starts to push down harder on you, we need to know. We have a general idea of where you are but I don't want to risk our weight putting more pressure on you."

"No change so far," Peter's voice sounded tired in his own ears. He was fatigued from trying to regulate his breathing and the stress of the entire situation. "How does it look from your end?"

"It's a mess," Cap admitted. "But we'll get you out." Peter nodded to himself and dropped his head onto his concrete pillow. If he strained his ears, he thought he could hear the sound of rubble shifting. But no light appeared and the weight holding him in place didn't let up or pressed down even more so he shifted his attention elsewhere.

The past hour had seemed like an eternity to Peter. Unfortunately, there wasn't much he could do other than wait and think about his current situation. His attention would drift from the rubble surrounding him to the fight going on above him. He could tell from the on-going conversation that, thankfully, no one else was hurt. When the action started to wind down considerably, Peter couldn't help but repeatedly go over the entire scenario in his head. He had done this to himself. There was no point in denying it. He got a little trigger (or web-shooter) happy. Now it seemed as if some higher being was taking the opportunity to give him a time-out for it. If he were in a better mood, he might appreciate the irony of the entire situation. His intentions had been good but it seemed that life had another lesson for him to learn. And he got the message loud and clear now, while under ten plus feet of concrete, metal, and glass.

The fight had just begun when his Spidey-Sense kicked in. He and Natasha had been given the task of clearing the streets and protecting civilians. So far, most of the locals were staying inside and out of the way. They weren't necessarily out of harm's way but it was definitely safer than the alternative. The warning in Peter's head caused him to pick up the pace and he was soon head of Natasha. The further he moved; the louder the warning became. He had to be getting close. Sure enough, a group of Chitauri appeared ahead of him. Checking to see where Natasha was, he braced himself for the fight that was about to occur. Not a moment later, The Other Guy crashed out of a building on the right side of the street. The sudden appearance of Bruce Banner's alter ego left everyone shocked. The aliens shifted their attention just in time for the Hulk to punch his way through their group. Peter felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. At the same time, Clint's voice rang over their comm devices. Peter heard him say Natasha's name. Suddenly, the situation came into focus. The building the Hulk had just run through was swaying and it was coming down fast. And in a few seconds, his teammate would be underneath it all. There was no time to shout. There was only time for action. Heart in his throat, he sprinted back towards her and fired a web that latched onto her arm. In one fluid motion, he sent her sprawling into an alley way and skidded to a halt. In front of the building that was about to come down. He heard Clint yell one word into his ear. Move. He didn't need to be told twice. But the time needed to get Natasha to safety had cost him and he couldn't get out of the way in time. The structure of the building consumed the space around him and within seconds he was buried. The space was beyond dark and all he could do was hope that it was over soon. Natasha and Clint's voices assaulted his ears and before long everyone else, sans Bruce, was trying to figure out what had happened. It was Steve's voice that finally cut through the bedlam.

"Be quiet!" His voice rang with authority. "Peter, can you hear us?"

"Yeah," he gasped. Adrenaline was fueling his body. He was positive that he should be in pain but at that point in time he could feel nothing. "I can hear you."

"Are you okay?" Gun shots rang in the background. The battle hadn't stopped for a toppled building.

"I think so. I can't really feel anything. But I'm alright." Peter heard Clint curse under his breath. After a quick discussion, they decided there wasn't much they could do to help Peter until the alien situation was contained. Every so often, someone would come over the comm to check his status. Over time, the adrenaline had worn off and been replaced with fatigue and pain. Some parts of his body felt numb while others just hurt. The muscles in his arms were on pins and needles but it was his chest that worried him. From the discomfort he felt, he was pretty certain a couple of his ribs were broken. And now he was starting to worry that they would heal back wrong due to his advanced healing powers. Typically, his body would repair itself in a matter of hours and that was fine and dandy. But now that he knew there was ten feet of rubble above him, there was a very good chance they wouldn't get to him before his body would try to heal itself.

"Clint, how is everything looking from up there? Can you guys spare someone? We need more hands." The sound of concrete on cement echoed through his ears. A few minutes later, Thor joined the search party. A few minutes passed before Steve checked in with him. "You fall asleep down there?"

Peter snorted. "Oh yes, I've never had more comfortable sleeping arrangements."

"Just checking," He was keeping his voice light, but Peter could hear the strain and fatigue in it. The fight must have taken a lot out of him.

"Are you guys making much progress?" Peter tried not to let his voice shake.

"It's taking more time than we thought it would, but it'll be quicker now that Thor's here. Are you still doing okay? How's your breathing?" Peter considered that question for a moment. He could lie and say he was just fine. He could throw out some sarcastic quip, but then they would he was putting up a front. This time, he settled for the truth.

"It's getting harder to breathe. I don't think anything has shifted but everything feels heavier." He paused before continuing. "Do you think my ribs will heal before Dr. Cho can take a look at them? What if they start to heal while everything is still on top of me?"

Steve cut him off before he could get too worked up. "We're going to get you out before that happens, Pete. I promise. Right now, I need you to stay calm."

"Hey, Web-Head are you claustrophobic?" Tony asked.

"Before today, no," he couldn't resist being sarcastic now. "But I am suddenly much more sympathetic to that population."

"Well, hopefully this will be a one-time thing. Cross it off your bucket list, would you?"

"Done," Peter rolled his eyes. "It's not like I planned this, you know?"

"You are quickly becoming the most expensive team member, kid. Coulson is going to have to take out insurance on you. First, you fall through a burning building and then one collapses on top of you. We can't take you anywhere."

"Did you not fly a bomb into outer space, Man of Iron?" Thor's comment caught everyone off guard. For a second no one said a word until Peter started laughing and couldn't seem to stop. Leave it to Thor to state the obvious.

"Touche, Point Break."

"Hey, Cap, the rest of the Chitauri has been taken care of. We are heading your way." Clint's voice interrupted the moment.

"What are the chances we can get the Hulk to help out without causing more damage?" Steve thought aloud.

"I don't know," Natasha considered. "He seems pretty calm now. It might be worth a shot."

"Bring him with you but don't let him step on the debris. Sit tight, Peter. We'll get you out real soon." A few minutes later, Peter could feel the ground shake under the Hulk's massive feet. And shortly after that, a ray of light landed on the ground in front of Peter's head.

"Guys, I have light now. Can you see me?" Craning his neck as far as he could, Peter still couldn't see much other than the debris that surrounded him. With that little bit of light, he could now tell that there was a steel beam wedged between two giant slabs of concrete over his head. If his team responded, he didn't notice because he was now marveling at how deadly his situation could have been. Sure he was in a good bit of pain, but that piece of steel kept him from being crushed. And now it was starting to shift. Dust poured down on Peter's head making him cough. "Stop! Whatever you guys are doing, you have to stop!" Immediately, the creaking ceased and the last of the dust settled around his face.

"What's wrong?" Stark demanded.

"You're close, dammit, you're so close. There is a steel beam right above my head. It's keeping two chunks of concrete from falling on my head. Whatever you're doing, it's making the beam move." Clint and Tony swore.

"We'll just have to work around it." Steve said. "Can we come in from a different angle?"

"I don't know, Cap. I can't really see anything else."

"Call Coulson," Natasha suggested. "His tech teams are always developing something new. Maybe we could get a camera down there or something."

"That will take too long." Tony disagreed. "Pete, if we find a way to stabilize the concrete do you think we could take the beam out?"

"I don't know. It looks really unstable, Tony. I think if you move any piece all of it will come down. If I had more light, I would be able to tell you."

"Let's get him some more light." Steve ordered and everyone went back to work. Slowly, carefully, more natural light started to filter in through the darkness. At first, he could just make out the silhouette of the structure above him. After a few minutes, he could see most of the debris surrounding him. It was almost as if he were stuck inside a small (spider sized) house. The support beam and concrete slabs above him formed a rough, warped teepee ceiling around the walls of Peter's 'room'. Peter guessed there was maybe three feet between the ceiling and his head. From there he could now see that other beams and chunks of concrete formed the walls of the space. The debris covered most of the small space including Peter's torso and limbs.

"Guys, I have good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?"

"The good news," Clint said.

"The good news is I have plenty of head room. The bad news is I don't think that matters because I'm not seeing a way out."

"What can you see?" Peter quickly relayed the details of his spider-sized space. After giving Tony as much information as he possible could, he heard what sounded like a saw. Moments later, Peter saw a red laser shoot through the left slab over his head. In no time, a perfect circle had been cut and fell inches from Peter's head.

"Hey! I thought you were trying to help me, not knock my head off!"

"You want to make an omelet," Tony didn't finish the phrase. But his head was floating just above the hole he had just created. He must have been using his repulsors to hover just above the concrete. "Hey there Spidey. Long time; no see."

Peter's laugh was borderline manic, which was an indicator to them all of just how close he was to losing his cool. "Never thought I'd be happy to see your ugly mug." Resting his face on the ground once more, he took a deep breath. They wouldn't leave him like this.

"Can you move anything other than your head?" Stark asked. Peter was certain Jarvis was scanning the space and creating a 3-D image that they could study more closely. Peter shook his head. "That's fine. We always knew you were a damsel in distress. We'll figure it out." And then he was gone. A second later, a shadow appeared at the edge of the hole.

"They are coming up with a game plan." Clint's voice floated down to him. "I figured I'd keep you company." Everyone must have turned off their comms because he could hear nothing of the plans to get him out.

"I appreciate that. It's a little lonely down here. Has SHIELD shown up to assess the damage yet?"

"They are en route. Coulson should be here within the hour."

"He's going to have his hands full on this one."

"It's not easy being top Agent." Clint agreed.

"Clint?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"I thought I was helping her." Peter hesitated for a second. "I saw that she was in the path and thought I could help."

"I know you did. Were you going off what you could see or your Spidey-Sense?"

"Both," he admitted. "First, my sixth sense but when I turned I really thought it was going to fall on top of her."

"It wasn't. She was cutting it close but she was fine. You were both out of the way."

"I didn't know. From my angle, it didn't look that way."

"Well, kid your angle was limited. You know, there is a reason why I'm called Hawkeye. It would be nice if you'd trust me and let me do my job." Clint's light tone took the sting out of his previous statement. "I'll always have my teammate's backs. Nothing changes that, Pete. When I'm up high, I don't miss a trick. Take your current situation, for example. You're hurting a lot more than what you're letting on." When Peter didn't defend himself, he continued. "It's not a bad thing to need your team, you know? Maybe don't make it a life or death situation, but you should be able to depend on us. We depend on you." Clint paused again to let Peter interject if he wanted. When he was met with silence again, he steered the conversation in a different direction.

"You know what I was thinking about earlier?"

"What's that?"

"The day we recruited you," Clint chuckled. "You were ready for a fight from day one, man. It's funny now. You tried so hard to out talk Coulson and manipulate Nat."

"I was no match and didn't even know it," Peter reminisced fondly. For months, Peter replayed that scene over and over in his head. In hindsight, he should have been more careful and varied the rooftops that he visited. He was taking a break and listening to the local police scanners when a certain someone interrupted. Phil Coulson in his everyday best. Oddly enough, Peter had first been introduced to Coulson that very day at school. He had been pulled out of his third period English class to meet a college recruiter. Peter found it a little odd that MIT would send someone to talk to him without scheduling a meeting first. But who was he to turn down the opportunity to speak to someone from MIT? The better question was: What was an MIT recruiter doing on a rooftop in Queens after midnight? Something just wasn't right. Without a doubt, someone had found out he was Spider-Man. But why go through the trouble of meeting him as Peter Parker first?

"It's a nice night, isn't it?" Coulson made casual conversation. "I was hoping I would catch you before you took off again. We didn't get to talk for long this afternoon. Maybe we could finish the conversation now?" Peter tried to play it off. He had no idea what he was talking about. He had never seen this man in his life. Coulson simply stood there with a soft smile on his face and listened to all of Peter's excuses. "We've never met before? Okay, I guess you've never met her either." Peter's head turned to the sound of heels clicking on metal and a moment later Natasha appeared behind Phil. Peter had met her as the substitute gym teacher. She wasn't around much, just enough to improve the male attendance. He felt his heart skip a beat. Two people figured it out. Where had he slipped up?

Both figured didn't advance towards him. They gave him his space but Peter definitely felt threatened. After a moment, he began to realize it was because someone had a weapon they were hiding. Tilting his head to one side, he tried to make out the outline of a gun on either of them. He didn't see one. "We aren't armed." Phil read his mind. "We were hoping that you would feel more comfortable talking to us if we met beforehand. I can see now that isn't the case."

Again, Peter denied having any idea what Phil was going on about. "You aren't armed?"

"Nope," Phil's posture oozed confidence. Peter could tell that this was a man who was an expert negotiator. He wasn't someone to be under estimated.

"I call bullshit." His Spidey-Sense told him otherwise. Someone had a gun on him. He could feel it in his bones. "If you don't have a gun then there is someone else here."

"It's just us." Natasha had yet to talk but her nonverbals spoke volumes. She was a weapon, plain and simple. There was more to her than he could see by just looking at her. This was a woman who knew how to hurt people. She knew how to exploit weakness. She set Peter's teeth on edge.

"Don't lie to me," He moved to take a step towards the pair when the warning bells in his head went off. He whipped around in time to see: nothing. There was no one there. "Where is your other guy?"

"Other guy?" It was Phil's turn to play dumb.

"Yeah, the one with a gun pointed at my back." Peter scanned the other rooftops. He didn't see anything. With his back turned, he could feel Phil and Natasha share a look. "If you just want to talk, why bring the sniper?"

"It's just a precaution."

"Where is he?" All of the windows that were close looked vacant. Of course, that didn't mean that he wasn't a little further off.

"In his nest," Natasha smirked. "And he doesn't have a gun." Her smirk combined with that statement made Peter's skin crawl. Peter later found out that Clint had been set up about 1,000 yards from the rooftop.

"You really would have shot me if I'd gotten too close to them." It wasn't a question. Peter knew without a doubt that Clint would have done it in a heartbeat.

"Like I said, I watch out for my team. We didn't know hardly anything about you. Steve and I wanted them to wait a little longer before approaching you but Fury wanted it done. You were becoming quite popular. We needed to make sure you were on our side." The sun was starting to set and Clint's shadow stretched across the cavern. Peter blinked once, then twice. It had to be a trick of the light, but he swore he saw something move. Was that another light?

"Clint…"

"Yeah?"

"I think something is moving down here."

"What does it look like?" Peter squinted when the beam of light hit him square in the face. A flashlight? He ducked his head to see through the glare. The owner of the flashlight turned it back under her chin and smirked. Natasha.

"It looks like a red-headed nightmare." A couple of people above him snorted. "How did you get down here?"

"Stark figured out a way to tunnel around the concrete. It was a tight squeeze, but we can get through." She pushed the flashlight towards him and wriggled the rest of the way out.

"No offense, Nat," Peter looked skeptical. "But I don't think you'll be able to get me out from under all this."

"We've got a little help." She showed Peter what was in her other hand. One of Tony's hand repulsors. "Between the three of us, we should be able to get you out. Okay, Stark! How do we get this thing on my hand?" As if activated by voice command, the repulsors attached to Natasha's hands and glowed to life.

"Now just use it like I showed you." Tony yelled back.

"Here goes nothing," Natasha mumbled. "Be ready to move. On three: one, two, three." Peter willed his body to squirm out from under the debris. His limbs were numb and didn't want to cooperate. But Nat was taking the pressure off of his lungs and that was all he needed to move out of harm's way. With a gasp, she let go of the rubble and flinched when it groaned in response.

"Were you successful?" Thor shouted.

"Yeah, he's out! But I think I made it mad," Natasha surveyed the small space. "Can you move?" Peter rubbed some feeling back into his arms and legs.

"Let's get the hell out of here. Lead the way." The tunnel out wasn't long but Natasha wasn't joking when she said it was narrow. They moved as quickly as they could. Peter never really appreciated how agile Natasha was until that moment. They were similar in size but she moved with more grace and finesse. A couple of times, the rocks and rebar under them would shiver and shift sending Peter's nerves into overdrive. What seemed like a trek to the top of Mount Everest was over within minutes.

The sunset was beautiful. Peter was willing to bet he'd never seen a prettier sunset. And the air tasted like heaven. He wanted nothing more than to rip his mask off and gulp the fresh air. He settled for lifting it over his mouth and sipping the air so as not to agitate his lungs any further. He caught Nat's eye and matched her smirk.

"Thanks."

"Just repaying the favor."

"Can you guys come down now? I don't trust this hunk of crap to not collapse on you." Clint called from the bottom of the pile where the rest of the team was assembled. Nat helped Peter limp to the bottom. At some point he had started to shiver and couldn't seem to stop now. The wind brought on goose bumps and he wanted nothing more than to get back on the Quinjet and head for home. But gratitude was in order first. Before he got the chance, Steve interrupted him.

"Dr. Cho is on her way to the Tower."

"The Tower?" Peter questioned. "Why not SHIELD medical?"

"We figured you'd be more comfortable there."

"And less likely to call Challenge," Clint added. Oh so that's why they were all looking at him weird and hogging the conversation. They expected him to leave as soon as Dr. Cho gave him a once over. Peter could see the strain and exhaustion weighing on them all. He had really worried them. Even Thor's typically crisp blue eye were dull.

"I figured I'd hang around for a few days." He was speaking to the group as a whole. "It couldn't hurt to take a few days off, right? Until Dr. Cho gives me the green light." Steve looked pleased with his answer and a little relieved, which made Peter wonder if the Captain had considered pulling rank on him. "Can we get out of here?" The Hulk gave a grunt of agreement and turned toward the Quinjet. "I'll take that as a yes."

They all turned to follow The Other Guy when Peter felt something warm drape over his shoulders. Thor's cape. "It does more than make me look fierce in battle. You look cold." He explained.

"Thanks," Peter wrapped the cape around himself. No doubt about it, he would fall asleep on the trip back.

No one spoke until they were all situated on the Quinjet and hovering off the ground. "We should get take-out for dinner. What do you guys want?" Tony asked from the cockpit.

"Pizza."

"Chinese."

"Indian."

"Burgers."

"Italian."

"Nope, you're all wrong. The correct answer is schwarma."

"I would like to vote for poptarts." All conversation ceased and all eyes were on Thor. "They are most delicious."

"A box of poptarts for the God of Thunder. And schwarma for everyone else." Tony concluded and the discussion broke out again. This time Peter sat back and listened to his team bicker. He pulled Thor's cape up to his chin and slipped his mask off. It was time to be Peter Parker again. It would be nice to recover at the Tower. He wouldn't have to worry about agitating his ribs. And should something come up, Peter knew he had his team to back him up. Maybe it was time for him to start depending on them more. Not completely, but more than he had in the past. They were a tough group, Peter thought. They could handle his weight if he needed them to.

Looking around at everyone, Peter found it difficult to believe that not long ago they were all strangers. At some point, they all had shifted from acquaintances to co-workers to teammates to whatever they were now. Peter didn't feel the need to put a label on it. All he knew was he could handle himself and he could be a solo act. But it felt damn good to know that he didn't have to anymore. He knew he could call Challenge and walk out at any time but sometimes it was more important to stick around. Sometimes what his teammates wanted trumped what he wanted. And if that meant staying in bed for a few days to appease them, so be it.

He wouldn't call Challenge. This time.

A/N 2: Thank you again for reading! Stay tuned for The Kubler Ross Rollercoaster. Please review!


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